Skip to main content

Connecting islands of innovation - by digital journey



First thing's first:
Now that's the selfie done, let's talk about the teaching tool.  I used 'my life elsewhere' today with my Year 10 class as we were talking about using economic and social measures of development. Before you read much further, visit the site and have an explore.  
This wonderful nugget of a site came from Matt Podders, general legend of a geographer.  I've chosen to use this as an illustration of how connected teaching is beacuse I came across it on the SLN Geography Forum.  To me, one of the appeals of the 'chalk' face has always been that you're basically left and trusted to get on with it on a day to day basis.  That means that teachers can subvert.  At least, that has always been the case for me.
However, that really becomes a bit of a mission, especially when the educational landscape is shifted so much.  Geography, in particular, is a dynamic subject that changes each week.  That's when being on ones own becomes a bit of a drag. Islands of innovation are difficult to maintain and the internet connects them into archipelagos and continents, heading to a Pangaea that is self-sustaining.
Imagine a world before Twitter.  I was sat in a room at the University oif Durham, ready to learn as an eager PGCE student, when Chris Durbin entered the room.  It was a great session that covered many great ICT related ideas, but the main takeaway was his introduction to the world of the SLN Geography Forum.
This wonderful place was a source of inspiration and late night banter and I am still connected to truly legendary geography teachers from that time in 2003 onward.  It was, and is, a place to share ideas and debate change.  Of course, it became a little feral and twitter came along, but SLN's forum introduced me to blogging.  I started that in 2006 thanks to Ollie Bray, now a Headteacher in the Cairngorms when I visited the Scottish Association of Geography Teachers' annual conference in Dundee.
Twitter has become a frustrating place for some, but like any online space, it's easy to ignore and turn off.  
What struck me was the willingness to share and the kindness of strangers.  Just step back for a moment and tune out the white noise of rubbish (perhaps around the progressive/traditionalist or college of teaching tosh), and reflect. People who have never met each other are willing to help.  
Over the years I've received CD-Roms trhough the post, met up with strangers in barns and been saved from the brink of insanity before an inspection, all through simple posts on sites such as SLN Geography and twitter. Receiving help from people with no interest or care other than to assist a fellow teacher and try to ensure young people are getting the best deal, even if that's not in their own school. Taking time out of planning and marking their own lessons in order to help.
That all causes spectacular goosebumps and an overwhelming sense of well-being and pride.
Sure, there are muppets. Sure, there are disagreements. But the very fact that they show up in the first place is what I love about teaching.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

High Impact, Low effort

This month is the start of the #29daysofwriting challenge.  I enjoyed this last year and will be using my Staffrm account to post.  I'll also be reporting here, both to give a little more detail and to keep a log of what I have written. The challenge developed a great sense of community last year, which is why I'm choosing to write on Staffrm. What I would say to those who are new to writing or don't want to run out of ideas is: Write for yourself. Clarify an idea, write something out loud. The process of distilling thoughts into writing is immensely beneficial to your practice. If other read, comment and respond, that's a bonus. Ignore the muppets who know nothing of your context, style or students. Mix it up - I like to read about real stuff from real classrooms and schools and also about other stuff.  If we always write about school, how does that work for workload? If you've nothing nice to say, don't say it. So, the following has been 

What makes a learning experience profound? Personal reflections and possible implications for classroom practice.

I have recently begun a Leadership Pathways journey.  As part of the first core day, we were asked to reflect on a profound learning experience. This got me thinking about how many profound learning experiences I have both been involved in, and how many I have been able to give to others.  Our group came up with a huge long list, but these are my five. Emotional Connected Demanding Reflective Collaborative As always, these are personal thoughts and quite mixed up.  I put them here so that I can look back on them (plus they’d get lost inside my world-cup-free brain) 1. Emotional I can’t think of a time where deep learning hasn’t engaged my emotions.  From being awe inspired to that tingle feeling when a student gets a light bulb moment.  From this-is-the-happiest-day-ever, to I-think-I’m-about-to die.  How often do we engage the emotions of those we teach?  Here, I would argue that having a safe learning environment is not always conducive to profound

The danger of Teaching and Twitter conversations: poorly formed bipolar arguments.

Sometimes in life, there really are only two options.  Get the wrong one and you can look like a muppet.  Take this useful sign for the toilets in Morocco.  I successfully navigated it, choosing the right option.  The result? No egg on my face.  As a mountain leader, there are many right or wrong decisions that I’ve faced, as there are all over life.  It’s not a good idea to let inexperienced young people walk themselves down Snowdon.  They may die or be seriously injured.  If someone is showing the signs and symptoms of hyperthermia, you need to treat it fast in a specified way.  There is no real arguing with this sign: Other options are less obvious.  Take this sign recently spotted near to where I live: Now, I wouldn’t consider sleeping in a bin.  However, faced with a sub-zero night, I could see the appeal.  The danger? Being tipped into one of those huge lorries with a compactor. (by the way, I only really considered all of this thanks to questions from my four year old boy).